


Nothing is small

by hummergrey



Series: G1 episodes [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Attack at the dam, Background Relationships, Details can offline, Evil Plans, Mirage can't swim, Surprise in battle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummergrey/pseuds/hummergrey
Summary: With the Autobots at a tactical disadvantage against the Decepticons, Wheeljack proposes making earth Transformers inspired by mighty warriors from the prehistoric past. Only the Dinobots become a bigger threat than the Cons and are buried away. Or are they?Go beyond the official Teletran records to learn the full story of behavior and actions of the Autobots defying Prime’s orders, Megatron’s plan within a plan and water paralyzing? Who flies, who doesn’t and why to a  great mind nothing is small or ignored, even a single detail.SOS Dinobots - chapters 3 /3. Other shows to be added going forward. Plot and a purpose across multiple posts.
Relationships: Wheeljack/Ratchet/Dinobots (Transformers)
Series: G1 episodes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810879
Kudos: 5





	1. Creating the Dinobots, disaster and Megatron's plan

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: These are the related adventures behind what you think you know of events. Kind of like the "Explanations" fic with a focus on the G1 episodes to start. No order to which theme chosen. This work is posted with a beta checker, any mistakes are mine. Please let me know what you enjoyed or liked or did not. 
> 
> :: Internal comms between specific bots or groups not audibly heard by anyone or anybot else. May be encrypted or hackable ::ITALICS
> 
> All rights owned by Hasbro, Rhino and whoever else their lawyers signed up with paperwork.

**S.O.S. DINOBOTS**

**Season 1 episode 7. October 27, 1984**

**Part One**

**The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State**

"A plan within a plan within a plan."

Prowl's palm swipe over the datapad screen paused the scrolling supply requests. The black and white armored officer could correlate no obvious reference Prime made while staring with narrowed optics at the nearest blank wall. One of the few walls not encroached with rocks in the Ark's command center, Teletran One being the dominant centerpiece. Personally Prowl missed the forward split view screens of the former ship and the view of space, brief as their journey had been from Cybertron but the stars remained a treasured memory. Craggy earth rocks jutted in instead, another reminder of the alien nature of the organic world. The Vanguard class starship served as their home and war base in the fight for earth, Cybertron itself dark and nearly abandoned by both factions. The multiple level ship would never fly, the engines smashed beyond repair in the crash landing. But the Ark served its purpose beyond its design. Prowl waited until the silence became uncomfortable if he was missing an expected response.

"Were you talking to me sir?"

Focusing on his Second in Command instead of the wall, Prime's deep blue optics widened. "Not directly. Megatron has not appeared on the grid since our last encounter. I fear what he may be planning."

"Off sulking you mean. We kicked Decepticon aft on Cybertron and brought back the part needed to save ya. Then you accepted Megatron's challenge to kick his aft. Did a right good job of it too," Ironhide interrupted, pausing at his workstation. Ratchet and Wheeljack moved closer, laying their data pads on the main worktable to join the discussion. The inventor's sidebars flashed soft green in agreement with Ironhide, locking down the memory of the fear they would lose their friend until the desperate space bridge jump to his old lab.

"Prime is right," Ratchet commented thoughtfully. His red and white armored build matched Ironhide's squared strength being of similar frame and caravan alt mode. “Silence indicates trouble, like plotting twins.”

"I heard that. I am standing, or rather working right here you know," Sideswipe's tone held a note of teasing. His red armored legs jutted out of the far console, tools and wiring nearby next to the removed access panels. The rest of him remained inside the unit, flashes of light sparking with his welding.

"I believe…." Whatever Prime intended was interrupted by the first tremor. The light rippling feeling traveled across the floor, the data pads tapping on the consoles as the mechs braced. The shaking increased with lights flickering and dull rumbling sounds spiking until the metal floor plates literally rocking underneath them. Battle computer's powered online and subspace fields activated automatically to ready weapons as their sparks pulsed faster. The two furthest data pads shimmied, tipping over the table edge to land with a resounding clang sound on the floor as the shaking tapered off.

"Ah hate this. Tremors and not trusting this planet's core. For a dormant volcano its too active if you ask me," Ironhide complained, bending down and scooping the two data pads up.

 _::All crew report in. Zone checks authorized immediately::_ Red Alert's comm carried high priority across their relays, marked urgent and required.

"Does he have to do that every time to verify if there is a bolt out of place?" Ratchet rolled his optics, frowning at the other mech tossed them across the surface and nearly off the other side. "Easy Ironhide. We need those."

“Says the worry bot scheduling maintenance every joor to verify our functioning,” Ironhide teased.

Wheeljack and Sideswipe ignored them, checking in their active operating status and no damage apparent to the Command Center or Teletran.

"Peace you two. Zone checks are good practice for catching safety issues," Prime stated, smiling fondly. "These tremors remind me of rolling across Cybertron's highest flex bridges and feeling the surface dip and move under you."

"Or being on an itchy Cityformer. Mechs never stay still as we rolled or walked over their expansion joints," Ironhide grumped, tapping the floor with a footpad. The metal pinged under his metal pad, a solid sound.

"You guys feel that?" Spike ran in, the yellow hardhat in place on his head. The young human male wore his customary blue jeans and yellow work shirt, the hardhat a requirement around most of the Transformers and especially the past week with the increasing tremors.

"Kind of hard to miss," Wheeljack greeted the human before venting as the floor rippled again.

"If you ask me, the Decepticons are behind these shakeups Optimus Prime. You know how that junk punk Rumble likes to make earthquakes," Ironhide grumbled, bracing. Sideswipe slid out from underneath the console and approached, the Transformers instinctively moving together for reassurance as teammates, on the battlefield or off. Spike walked around, listening for the deeper bass tones of the rumblings.

 _::Tremor strength confirmed directly north of us, beyond the rock wall, depth 7.6 km::_ Wheeljack sent, intent on the readings. His sidebars barely flashed blue green with his intense focus on the volcano's embedded sensors. One flashed offline, increased heat noted approaching before the signal suddenly stopped. _::Lost the deepest sensor, again::_

Prowl logged the corresponding data, forwarding it to the General Activity Log, splitting his attention between work entries and the wandering human under ped. Any sign of collapse or shifting within the room and he would grab the fragile human and shield him.

 _::At least Spike is attempting to use his senses to detect danger. More than most humans:_ : Ratchet sent. He recorded the heightened brain activity within the young man and faster pulse, perspiration and breathing while searching.

 _::They are a young race and have much to learn::_ Prime counseled.

 _::And their senses are pitifully weak. Ah got more in my left hand than their whole body. Any bot going to tell him that wall is solid or let him walk into it?_ :: Ironhide added as Spike pressed against the stony surface.

 _::Figured it out, kind of:_ : Wheelajck reacted to Spike's excited comment when discovering what they knew.

 _::Let's humor him::_ Ironhide stated, the main arm panel on his right arm popping up. He noted Spike's approving smile as the mini dish transformed out with the answering data flowing across his simulated windscreen mirroring Teletran's display.

"If Decepticons are burrowing behind that rock, my sonar-a-dar sensors will sniff them out. No Decept-a-creeps but there is something weird in there."

 _::You found something?:_ : Wheeljack challenged, his surprised look hid beneath his facemask.

 _::Ah ain't lying. Organic material transmitting like rock and unusual shaped pieces. Worth checking out:_ : Ironhide displayed the image of a dinosaur skeleton.

 _::I concur. We will excavate:_ : Prime agreed and authorized.

 _::But keep the mess to a minimum. Sideswipe and I have spent joors repairing the consoles in here including Teletran::_ Ratchet added.

Twenty minutes later, another split appeared in the rock barrier with Sideswipe's relentless hammering cracking the weakened vein. _::I have not done this type work since I left the mines::_ Sideswipe sent, not bothering to try and shout to be heard.

 _::I thought you twins were gladiators at Kaon:_ : Brawn quizzed, the rumbling of his gears increasing as his dual engines engaged to heave a boulder twice his size to the side effortlessly. A mini bot experienced with manual labor in construction projects, the green and brown armored mech matched the other's strength plus.

 _::Miners first, like Megatron. Sparked into endless debt owing to the mining high family of our district. As third framers, we wanted more than to offline in metal fall. Only other option for bots our low class was the battle dome. Our twin spark link helped but we earned our skill in the fighting pits and erased our debts to buy our freedom. We left Kaon for better opportunities to find peace, unlike Megatron and his army to start the war. Sunstreaker wanted to be a graphics artist and I wrote holodeck fiction adventures. Then Prowl and Jazz recruited us for the Autobot side as front-line battlers after a night of high-grade adventures through a Decepticon base camp ::_ Sideswipe answered. Arm pistons pumping, the rock's solid surface fractured before cracking apart under his relentless pounding.

 _::I would love to hear that story another time. My clan family did the prep and post work. Blasted the metal cores deep inside Cybertron's surfaces or removed old surface structures. During the prewar years, more building than destroying meant a huge need for new metal plating. My choices were either demolitions expert or make endless trips down and back to the surface with loaders guiding the metal carriers::_ Brawn

 _::You were never worried about becoming flying bits and wires working with powerful mixes?_ :: Sideswipe

 _::My work was either right or I would be in so many pieces I would never care or know I screwed up until crossing into the Well of Sparks::_ Brawn

: _: Point. Breakthrough! Widen it enough for Prime to fit and let's see what we got in here::_ Sideswipe sent. Minutes later, he stared around the enormous stone cavern in amazement. _::It's as large as our old mine tunnels. Planet made naturally::_

 _::It is amazing::_ Wheeljack noted, following Prime and the others inside. Ironhide led the way as point defense as Spike and Prime walked alongside over the rocky uneven surface. Wheeljack followed them, his pace slower as he took multiple scan readings throughout the huge space. Sideswipe and Brawn took outer flank positions, their armor shifting outward to draw in cooling air to hard worked frames. The disrupted ground appeared bubbled from eons before, sealing the bones into solid rock with the hardened stone muffling the sounds of their steps without any dust to stir up. They passed a triple pointed skeleton frame half sunk to its height in solid rock. Beyond it lay the partially concealed bone alignment of a brontosaurus, the rib bones large enough for smaller Transformers to walk under.

"Dinosaurs. Animals that ruled earth millions of years ago," Spike identified.

 _::Ark crash into the volcano wiped the creatures offline. Never had time to react before the impact wave struck::_ Wheeljack theorized, picking up another bone fragment.

 _::Like us with one of your lab explosions::_ Ratchet teased, long use to putting the inventor back together.

 _::I do not find that humorous::_ Wheelajck

: _:Humerus to me::_ Ratchet quipped, pointing at the bone. _::The bone? Humerus? A play on words for the human arm bone? Never mind::_

 _::Hardee har har medic_ :: Wheeljack

Jazz peered at the large bone shapes, the T-rex head alone nearly his entire frame height. The blue flaring of his visor was the only indicator of his artistic subfiles activating, trying to figure out what had that shape as an underneath framing. Not one square or straight line presented on the skull as he expected, the teeth jagged and foreign to the metal spy. "Dinosaurs eh? They must have been ugly suckers."

"I would like to know more about them," Wheeljack announced.

"As would I," Prime agreed. "Perhaps Spike would continue our dinosaur education."

 _::What education? He said they were animals and former rulers. Ain't that enough?_ :: Ironhide challenged over the comms least he insult the boy.

 _::Rulers like Quintessons or Allspark Temple code readers? All ancient history and little bearing on our existence now::_ Sideswipe

 _::We can do more research ourselves in one joor than a lifetime of the human species learning::_ Brawn

 _::Human world, human history. And no more research ourselves ! Not after our attempts garnered those vivid research errors! :_ : Prime shuddered, repressing certain images.

 _::Not errors, more detail on organics than you could handle. And I never authorized mating rituals, live births or eating practices worldwide before any of you complain. You found those on your own trying to surf the human internet::_ Ratchet reminded.

 _::I'm interested, in the dinosaurs that is. Let me accompany the boy and I can retrieve the data::_ Hound offered, wanting to experience more earth culture.

 _::Agreed. Accompany as Guardian and bring back pertinent detail ::_ Prime ordered.

 _::Right away Prime::_ Hound saluted, locking in scans of the bones to learn more about those specific cavern remains.

**Great Falls – Between the Cascade Locks Area and Multnomah Falls, The Gorge, Oregon state**

Gasps of wonder disappeared under the rushing water sounds of the Great Falls, the human made waterfall falling over the precipice into the locks area below. The dam edged between the rocky cliff and the immense water shape, perched on the edge with rebar and concrete shoring. Built to withstand years of hammering pressure, the design fitted the protected wildlife area with minimum human impact. The energy supplied not only the Gorge area but up the power lines to the vast city scape of Portland, Oregon. The endless power demand by the growing metropolis requiring around the clock staff to maintain the dam's generators with the latest technologic equipment. The sturdiness of the dam viewing platform gave the human family the opportunity to feel the mist on their faces and marvel at the sheer amount of water rushing past. The human boy of about nine years old stood between his parents, behaving for the promise of a giant ice cream cone at the Cascade Locks fast food hut.

Below the concrete viewing platform, the large blue metal disc attached to the rocks recorded every word of the dad's teaching on electricity. The expansion cable, if they had followed it down linked into a giant size blue tape recorder. The device, unusual in size would have offlined any human instantly if challenged or neared. Perched on the rocks, Soundwave kept his alt mode shields tight lest any of the water get into his simulated cassette deck. Last thing the torture specialist and information officer needed was his cassettes grumbling about moisture, more than they already were.

 _::How long are we going to spark sit this tub drain?::_ Rumble

 _:: Data required. Multiple operational fields:_ : Soundwave sent back to his hidden cassette, tracking Laserbeak's signal as the winged cassette soared above.

 _::Multi fields of what? Misery? Let us attack and tear the place apart. Make cubes and leave::_ Frenzy

 _::Negative. Planning and stealth required. Lord Megatron ordered:_ : Soundwave

 _::Does that mean going home to Cybertron soon? Our ship is underwater, I miss flying over metal:_ : Buzzsaw

 _::We suffered enough building around the sunken Nemesis after the crash. No more water. I am made for hunting not swimming with fishes_ :: Ravage

Laserbeak analyzed the last stone sample, the hole drilled precisely with his laser optics. The final information requested on the surrounding land gathered and analyzed.

"Data gathering complete Reflector," Soundwave transformed to his full mech size, towering over the multi sparked Reflector. The large camera transformed apart into three separate mechs, the middle mech with the distinct camera lens on his chest as their sensor scans finished. The mechs were anxious to leave and report back to Megatron. Their specialty skill set for data collection kept them useful to a warring army and away from scientists and lab experimentation on their shared spark. Protection by Megatron over the vorns meant more than any amount of energon payment or offered command position to the rare trio, even from Shockwave or Starscream. And Megatron would be pleased with what they had discovered. Taking flight, they flew towards their hidden base with jammers on full. Only human eyes could see them and the few who did were invariably killed or their stories ignored as fabricated tales without proof as the Decepticons never flew the same route twice.

**The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State**

"And?" Prime prompted, welcoming Hound and Spike back as the others gathered closer to hear.

"The museum was exciting. Never been to one before. Like a three-dimensional learning room in our second frame schools. And my entry fee was discounted. Apparently my age made me a senior. Half price to visit during the afternoon hours," Hound answered, warming up his holographic generator to cover the Command Center and immerse them in the images.

"Any trigger warnings we need to know about?" Ratchet prompted, having dealt with enough processor aches and problems in med bay already.

"None. I promise no dinosaur eating dinosaur holo even if the T-Rex is a walking fang factory," Hound chuckled, confirming the scans of the Brontosaurus, Tyrannosaurus Rex and Triceratops ready and life sized.

"Very impressive," Prime noted as the holo shapes formed around them. The large flesh creatures paled before even the size of the Guardian mechs back on Cybertron but for organics, they were impressive compared to the modern-day humans and their pets of cats or dogs. The holographic four-legged Brontosaurs moved into the water, its long neck and head clear as it swam across.

 _::Oh no::_ Ironhide groaned, deep venting.

 _::What?:_ : Prime prodded, glancing down at his Weapons Specialist.

 _::Wheeljack. He's got that look. He is processing and that ain't good:_ : Ironhide

 _::Hear him out::_ Prime

Wheeljack began explaining an idea of robot dinosaurs, able to challenge the Decepticons. And Ratchet agreed, bringing reason to the plan. "If it is okay with Optimus Prime."

"They might be useful," Prime pondered, watching the Triceratops fighting the taller T-Rex. Battle simulations ran, gauging the fight between the triple horned beast and the taller fanged animal. 'Not too different than some of our fights,' he realized. 'Weapons, armored enhancements and size differentials. I can imagine Megatron being cornered by them. Might teach him humility being trampled under ped.'

The civilian inventor and Chief Medical Officer waited, needing official authorization. They received it, with the conditions on every bot being a volunteer to help build and work on the parts and not ordered. Official duties were still required of the mechs and any attack by Megatron or the Decepticons took precedence. 'What are we getting into?' Prime wondered then dismissed it. Ratchet was the steadying force on Wheeljack and with so many mechs involved it might work well enough to save their sparks and be the help needed.

Days later Prime checked off another update, impressed the Dinobots presentation date remained unchanged from original estimates. Decks below in his workshop, the presentation date was foremost in Wheeljack's processing and feelings of pressure.

 _::What now?:_ : Wheeljack snapped, his irritation affecting his vocal tones as he answered the incoming communication ping.

Standing in med bay, Ratchet could imagine the inventor standing in his lab, welder in hand and his sidebars flashing an angry red color. _:: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are both on punishment detail cleaning the med bay tonight. Do you have a backup for the drilling welds?::_

 _::Oh. I processed you were Brawn or the other mini bots asking more directions. I sent them the plans for Grimlock's chest and arms, and they keep triple checking every sizing dimension as if the arms are too small and the chest plating too big! I am behind schedule on making the brain processors:_ : Wheeljack

 _::You are keeping the brain controls small as agreed?::_ Ratchet

 _::Yes. Working on the spark spires delayed me more than::_ Wheeljack

 _::What? Spark spires? These are front line drones not mechs. Did Prime or Prowl approve this? Where are we getting three sparks? And the Dinobots would be sparklings not warriors! Have you been self-experimenting again? Did a femme ?::_ Ratchet exploded over the comm, rapidly firing questions.

 _::Easy Ratch. Prepping only. Spark chambers deep inside and wired for future use. Save us retro fitting through all that armor::_ Wheeljack

 _::I'll retro you if this goes bad. We have one chance to show our design work. Our reputations are on the line::_ Ratchet

 _::Blame me if it goes bad. Every bot processes I am a failure anyways::_ Wheeljack

 _::Not! And if I ever hear you call yourself a failure again, I am dragging you by your side fins for a deep personality scan Jack! You are the greatest inventor of our generation if not on Cybertron! Lab explosions aside, your work is everywhere throughout this ship and our frame builds and weapons. Anything I can do to help speed the process up?::_ Ratchet

 _::Negative. Three simulated brain processors but each different for personality basics and allowing their fighting styles and movements. Tall and short armed or four legged and helm heavy with three battle points.:_ : Wheeljack vented deeply, touched by his friend's confidence. :: _And Prowl is my choice.::_

 _:: Why would you use him and his logic glitch as the base line?::_ Ratchet quizzed.

 _::No, Prowl for the drilling welds. His precision is almost an art form. I am using a combination of battle protocols and subroutines from all of us to build the Dinobots coding for both physical force and weaponized fighting ::_ Wheeljack clarified, his weariness straining as the recharge warning beeped for the ninth time. The risk of being tired and missing a critical component was outweighed by the presentation deadline fast approaching in his calculations.

**The Nemesis (Warship crashed underwater) – Decepticon Base, Pacific Ocean**

The satisfaction Megatron felt did not show except in his vocal tone and choice of words. The silver color armored Kaon Warlord stood tall, feet pads apart and shifted outward to compensate for the heavier weight of the war cannon on his right arm. "I learned from Sherman Dam and the Autobot encounter there. Enslaving the organic world to the Decepticon cause rather than fighting it will give us an advantage. Let Prime and his pathetic excuse for warriors cater to the weakling organics. Playing nice with them while I plan for conquest.'

Starscream, in his bright red and blue color scheme strode into the room followed by his trine mates. Red optics narrowed as the Seeker royal spotted Soundwave and Reflector. Starscream's processing could not be read by Soundwave, the result of a processor surge accident the seeker could never duplicate. 'Not that he has any brilliant plans to discover,' Megatron processed sourly. The Fallen's advice on keeping a second in command always hungry for the top position echoed. The practice kept Megatron alert and taking precautions that would have been ignored otherwise and allowed Prime or another to usurp him. Any true threat to his dictatorship over the Decepticons had been extinguished vorns before. The pathetic way Starscream failed in his plans were amusing enough Megatron kept him, for now.

Soundwave barely nodded, the slight blue helm tilt the only external sign of his team's success. Data flowed between them, metallurgy, geology, electrical engineering, and weaponization into logistical needs and the fledging of a battle plan. Megatron took it, adding his own layers with the confirmation numbers until today, the culmination of hard work.

"A perpetual power source exists," Megatron explained to his troops. Starscream fiddled as he talked, showing disrespect and an anxiousness to battle. 'That seeker never learns. Wanting to crown himself on top without building the underlying pillars drenched in spilled energon from conquered foes.' Predictable, the other’s critique was the first words spoken.

"I suppose you devised a brilliant plan for seizing it, eh Leader," Starscream snarked.

Megatron narrowed his optics further as he considered blasting Starscream for his insolence then did not. He needed the Seekers to keep the Autobots busy when they appeared, keeping the focus on fighting and not Megatron or the next step to their doom. The other’s use of the word 'leader' was not lost on him either. Deliberately ignoring all the other's titles, most of them self-given and not earned would irritate the Seeker as did the tone Megatron chose as though speaking to a youngling. "Affirmative Starscream. We attack the falls at once. Decepticons, prepare for conquest."

"What's the plan?"

"That is for me to know and you to carry out your part, if you can," Megatron challenged back. He used the words 'we attack' as a reminder and the seeker had failed yet again to understand his place.

"I will lead us to glorious victory, rest assured Leader."

"We shall see. To the air!"

Flying to the Dam, Megatron kept his mech form rather than subspace down and be carried as a weapon. 'I wonder if Prime knows how easy he has it with his troops. No wondering if he is about to be attacked, keeping these slaggers in line. Bah, the friction sands off the jagged edges, leaving polished perfection. And at the end of this day, I shall stand triumphant and powerful.'

**The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State**

Ratchet huffed through his vents, the only outward sign of exasperation. Wheeljack rehearsed his speech for the twentieth time as the last Autobots assembled in a straight line. 'Is this a morning inspection or debut?' he processed. The command room with Teletran One would have worked but Wheeljack had insisted on the rocky cavern where the bones were found as the backdrop for their presentation. The mini bots from Bumblebee to Cliffjumper started the line at the leftmost edge, the mechs in order more by height than rank all the way to Optimus Prime on the right. Unsurprisingly Prowl and Jazz stood midline next to each other, long use to hiding their command ranks during battles to confuse spark snipers. The twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood side by side letting Ironhide and Trailbreaker guard their Prime, more habit than obeying any orders. Ratchet remembered early conversations and arguments about their overprotectiveness after Prime Sentinel's ship disappeared and Optimus became their last known Prime. "Primus let this work; we need the help.'

"And especially Optimus Prime," Wheeljack continued his speech until even Ratchet got tired of it, mouthing the final words and gesturing at the same time Wheeljack spoke them. "Autobots, meet Dinobots." The lights brightened, revealing the mechs larger size and vivid color schemes of red, yellow, silver, and grey. The deep blue optics and optical visor on Grimlock remained darkened even as the bright Red Autobot insignia sparkled in the light. Each mech stood upright in a bi pedal form, their alt form panels in pieces and rotated back without identifying their dino shapes. Each of their faceplate patterns were distinct and their stocky frame included hands and block feet, the argument against claws or talons in mech form. 'Let their dinosaur modes be scary, their builds based on us and leader class mechs,' Ratchet had argued, winning against Wheeljack's preferences on that one point. Wheeljack thereby allowed to choose their names, Grimlock, Sludge and Slag.

The Autobots look impressed by the size and massive armor plating, especially those not directly involved in the Dinobot assembly. The presentation continued, Ratchet kicking himself vorns later for not processing two things quick enough. Confirming their brain programming ready the night before enough for on lining and the wording of his single command to " _Be quick about it,'_ for removing rock debris, weapons fire fitting the 'quick' command.

Jazz and Hound reacted first, their special operations training detecting the threat the quickest as targeting sensors locked onto them after the debris rocks vaporized. Wheeljack's explanation of the Dinobots limited mental functioning capacity was fate's way of emphasizing a point Ratchet processed later. The words had barely been uttered when all pit broke loose. He would remember reaching out to tap Wheeljack to turn around even as his encrypted urgent comm message flared.

 _::You did remember to designate us as friendlies?_ :: Ratchet asked.

Slag growled, plodding towards his creators before sweeping upward with his head and catapulting them into the air.

 _::I might have missed that part:_ : Wheeljack admitted sheepishly as both mechs hit the metal floor hard and rolled trying to disburse the kinetic energy.

The metal triceratops stopped, processes selecting his next target as the human father and son began panicking. Sludge stomped his hydraulic enhanced foot, the pressure shockwave knocking down the mechs in pairs. The brontosaurus growled but did not directly attack. A downed enemy was below his targeting horizon. Bluestreak fired first to his credit, attempting to protect the mini bots.

Ratchet rolled onto his side, raising up to see disaster. He watched Prime subspace out his ion rifle before he could be warned. 'Don't do that!" Ratchet started to yell as the blast ricocheted off Slag's armor and back into Prime. The CMO winced as Prime flew backwards into the metal wall as though hit by Megatron himself and fell, the rifle dropped. 'Pit! Our protocols are designating the Dinobots as fellow Autobots and we can only use energy weapons in this enclosed space.'

 _::Could this get any worse?::_ Wheeljack sent, holding a cracked arm against his chest plates. He remained half sprawled on the floor, internal compensators spinning from his less than graceful impact and tumbling.

 _::You had to ask buddy::_ Ratchet sent, watching with disbelief as Grimlock headed for the other room and Teletran One, still in his Tyrannosaurs Rex alt mode. Bumblebee and Spike raced behind, trying to interfere. Ratchet heaved up onto his feet pads, feeling his advanced age as he ran after them, his self-repair slow to come online. 'Slagging younglings. If anything happens to them I will never forgive myself.' One look confirmed his fears, Teletran damaged and Bumblebee on his side, stuck in his alt mode. Spike popped up out of the open side window, yelling for help and the medic relaxed marginally.

 _::Contain the Dinobots! Keep your distance!_ :: Prime's general command ripped across his relay, the tone angry sounding.

 _::I'm repairing Teletran One. Call me for major damage:_ : Ratchet replied, letting the others fight it out. The less he was involved with active weapons fire, the better. He and Wheeljack had discussed two ways to stop the Dinobots should they lose control. Teletran One was the quickest and its attempts to counter command the Dinobots had failed. Grimlock's simple brain had registered the stop protocol as an attack and repaid the system with blaster fire. The second needed them outside, the concept of a tar pit to entrap them with advanced Cybertronian energy strips to freeze them in place. The strips remained in place around the Ark entrance, hidden in the ground and utterly useless as the battle raged inside.

"They must be destroyed!"

Prime's order nearly sent Wheeljack into a spark attack. His mechlings, the Dinobots were going to be scrapped. Locking down the pain, he stumbled to his feet pads while processing rapidly. He raised a hand, blocking Prime from firing again, knowing it would be inconsequential and only serve to further anger his leader. "Wait! Maybe my magnetic inducer can stop them." The blast calibrated to their exact processing frequency triggered the Dinobots transformation cogs and a temporary reset in their processors.

"I beg you Optimus. Please, don't make me pull the plug on them."

"I'm sorry Wheeljack, The Dinobots must never be activated again. They are too dangerous," Prime countered. His decision as Prime to protect them all offset his friendship with the mech, however often he was called Optimus.

"I challenge your command on open decree," Wheeljack stated, the words creating gasps of shock from the rest. A formal plea to counter a Prime's command had not been requested in vorns and now he risked his status among them for his creations.

"Any challenge requires at least three separate clan heads. I am not sure we have enough mechs to qualify," Prime countered, understanding the reasoning behind the inventor's request without wanting to punish him. They needed him and his inventions and he realized there was a way out of forcing him into exile. "If you fail to present a convincing argument, they Dinobots are to be deactivated as I previously stated, and you retain your status as a civilian inventor and neutral among us. They will be entombed among the bones of those they represent. If the tribunal agrees with you, your work will continue with command oversight and the Dinobots answer for any damages or problems including capital punishment for their own future actions. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes."

"I will represent my clan and high status," Mirage spoke first. The aristocratic blue armored mech materialized into existence before them, having used his invisibility to shield the human Sparkplug and shift him clear.

"I will represent my clan from Praxus." Bluestreak's quiet claim surprised every bot. One of only two survivors of the doomed city, he rarely spoke of it relieving the final attack often in recharge terrors. Prowl laid a comforting hand on his shoulder plates, knowing the pain and feeling proud of the warrior mech for stepping up and volunteering.

"Count me in for Kaon," Jazz chimed, trying to unkink a bent knee plate. Diving to the side he had twisted it in landing, self-repair realigning the cogs but thrumming pain sensors in his lower leg plates would take time to ease.

"Quorum achieved," Prowl announced. As tactician, he predicted the outcome with a ninety percent probability before they even swore the oath before Primus to consider the challenge fairly and equally. Passively watching, he dutifully recorded each step of the proceedings, logging the secret final vote as two to one against Wheeljack following the final arguments. The outstanding vote not a 'yes' but an 'undecided' via Jazz.

"How does the tribunal find?" Prime asked, returning to the room with Wheelajck. Waiting in the Command Center before the ruined Teletran One as Ratchet continued repairs emphasized the seriousness of the decision.

"Agreement with a Prime's edict, challenge is denied. Ruling stands," Prowl announced.

Wheeljack never spoke or reacted as he watched Prime and the tribunal members push and pull his creations into the cavern. When their weapons raised, he vented hard while watching their blaster fire dropping the rocks down, sealing the Dinobots inside. The message clear in its symbolism. Destruction to stop their rampage. Not a wall to be unsealed or opened later but buried, their existence forgotten in time as the dinosaur bones had been until their accidental discovery.

_To be continued…_


	2. Fight at the Great Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onward to spending time in the sun with friends, going sightseeing, and taking a swim after falling off a cliff? Maybe not a fun day but still survivable, until Ratchet corners you in his repair bay. Even a Prime and his matrix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Notes: And the story continues. Kudos or comments are love and thank you for taking time to read. Remember to click “subscribe” to be updated when new chapters post. This first set is three chapters long. I will be adding more episodes.

**S.O.S. DINOBOTS**

**Season 1 episode 7. October 27, 1984**

**Part Two**

**Great Falls – Between the Cascade Locks Area and Multnomah Falls, The Gorge, Oregon state**

"Any idea what's for lunch?"

The cheerful question was met by silence before the other man relented, chuckling. The two uniformed guards paused by the hand railing without touching it, the metal slicked with moisture. Nearby, the cement walkway and buildings coating protected the concrete from the relentless buildup while creating sparkling drops in the bright sun. "Just because my rank is Captain," the dark-haired man pointed at the patch over his chest pocket. "Does not mean I know everything. The menu is posted weekly by the cafeteria door."

"I never pay attention to mundane stuff like that. Too awed by the natural beauty here, and the pretty new receptionist. I plan to ask her out on Friday to the movies. If she says no, then offer a lunch date. Or drop by at break time and start up a conversation and wow her with my personality and charm," the other man answered, wiping at the moisture across his face.

"Read the menu. It is lasagna, Caesar salad and garlic bread. And while you are at it, read the policy on sexual harassment and interdepartmental activities. Never date a coworker, it is always a good practice to follow but not official policy. If things go bad between you two, your work life can become heck on earth or cost you this job," the Captain stated firmly, settling his cap tighter. The bright red dot of their security and loss protection company logo the only marking on the tan cap. The tan uniform shirt and pants were military styled with a tie. The bright blue tie served a purpose rarely mentioned, detecting radiation, and changing to red as a requirement around all government work sites. The M16 rifles strung over their shoulders while patrolling the strategic buildings would need drying off later, stored away when mixing with the visiting civilian guests in the public access areas.

“And lose out on the fabulous pay? Why, I might even be able to retire in fifty more years.”

“After you pay me the forty bucks you lost on last week’s game. And this job is pretty cushy. Routine, routine and rescuing a tourist off the official trails trying to take a selfie before slipping and twisting an ankle. Predictable and less report writing that way.”

“Me? I prefer excitement occasionally.”

“And that is why I got the promotion and you did not. Excitement is overrated.”

Completing the patrol of the walkways, the duo approached the other team waiting at the far corner. "Bet Barnes asks what's for lunch too," the Captain joked before a high whistling noise caught his attention. The descending scream sound of jet engines had him turning as a massively wide shadow blocked out the sun. ‘Too low unless crashing,' he thought then froze, blinking as the four giant metal shapes in the sky registered. Their names he did not know except one. Megatron.

The guards exchanged a freaked look, realizing their rifles could stop human protesters but have little or no effect on armored metal aliens. "Above our heads and pay grade. The Dam is replaceable and insured, we are not. Pull the fire alarm, get everyone clear," the Captain ordered.

_::Thundercracker, chasing fire only:_ : Megatron ordered. Plan calculations allowed for human casualties, but their deaths were not a requirement, potential hostages needed. The war mech landed silently, his flying technology lowering his heavily armored frame with precision onto the cement walkways.

_::No offlining?_ :: Thundercracker's targeting systems alternated between locking only onto the human weapons or ramping up higher power to leave a small crater and char mark for each.

_::Let them carry the tale of our conquest::_ Starscream interrupted, more striking a pose than hovering into place alongside Soundwave.

_::Bait to ensure Prime leads and prevent his noble warriors from a full out assault least they hurt their precious fleshlings::_ Megatron explained, suppressing a grimace as Starscream nulled the external generators as if they were stopping Iacon's grand shields. The seeker braced; wings swept back with both arms outstretched firing. The larger generators cycled down, their high-pitched noise disappearing. 'Wasted effort on primitive equipment. Plan proceeding as expected:’

**"Phase one: Capture the Dam construct at Great Falls."**

**"Complete. Falls not 'great', research human use of word."**

**"Phase Two: Preparation of offensives for Autobot arrival."**

**"In progress, 15% complete with current warriors. Ongoing variables assessed."**

**"Phase Three: Energon cube production on half the generators."**

**"Preparation stage. Supplies in subspace and ready for distribution."**

**"Phase Four: Elimination of enemy foes."**

**"Pending for vorns.”**

**“Starscream's current status?"**

The ancient mech paused, not wanting to calculate how many times the annoying seeker had been on the foes list then removed as his science or battle acuity was required or needed.

**"Including Starscream if he fails me yet again."**

"Communications jammed. Decoy signal ready Lord Megatron," Soundwave intoned, recalling Ravage out of the human's area, automatically checking his cassette remained intact after crashing through metal bars and glass. Small debris of the human world invariably found the way into Soundwave's parts when the cassettes returned. The human’s primitive communications unit smoked and burned as the men working it fled down the far hallway. The smashed window a vivid display of the inferior technology of earth against their alien might.

"I Megatron declare this facility Decepticon domain."

"Until the Autobots arrive Leader. A damaged communications panel slows the inevitable. Your plans couldn't save Kaon, Praxus or Iacon for the Decepticon cause, why will this be any different?" Starscream countered softly, standing closest to the main generator entrance and away from the waterfall and his cannon carrying leader. The four seekers accompanying on the mission took defensive positions, mirroring Starscream’s pose with wings ready for flight.

"Capture complete. Lay out the power cabling, activate the nanite cannisters and begin cube production.” Troops moved, familiar with their assigned tasks as they kept logics focused for attack. Soundwave began effortlessly pulling out blank cube shapes from his subspace fields as the others hooked up transference cables to produce the raw energon.

“Rumble, attend to me. Your assistance is required," Megatron ordered, satisfied with the operation.

"I get to drop this place after all?"

"Negative. We need its energy. Process bigger and more precise." The Decepticon leader crouched, his red optics narrowing in as he waited for the expected response. Of all the cassettes, he favored Rumble because he rarely failed. Or questioned his assignments.

“Bigger like creating a tidal wave and really getting those generators spinning?”

“Attack yes, a tidal wave? No. Process the biggest variable target to succumb.”

"Biggest would be Prime but that could never happen," the small cassette stated.

"I disagree. Listen and learn," Megatron countered.

**The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon**

"Can you confirm if it's the Decepticons?" Optimus Prime stood in the Command Center, facing away from Ratchet and across the room physically. The medic's swearing and occasionally thrown charred part meant keeping a distance. Ratchet was as angry with himself over the failure of the Dinobots as being frustrated with repairing Teletran again, a volatile mix.

"The energy signature is warped but Cybertronian based. I need to get closer to confirm Cons and not more stolen technology in human hands but that puts me in weapons range," Hound's voice echoed over the communicator, his cheerful tone wrapped in sounds of whistling winds and revving engine sounds. The signal lag was nearly two seconds long, earth technology lacking Cybertron's advanced relays to piggyback their signal onto and their systems default of using Teletran’s and other communications enhancers.

"Orders stand. Do not engage or be discovered. I await your report."

"Understood. Hound out."

"Hey!" Instinctively lunging to the side, the large mech frowned even though the expression remained hid behind his battle mask. The ragged metal component, wires and all slid across the floor with scraping sounds to impact with the nearby wall. A piece large enough Prime could have snow sledded on slung across the room as easily as dropping a datapad onto a table. The metal piece an example of the Ratchet's great frame strength, often hidden.

"All five power transistors are intact and the interchange crystals but not the conduit tubing. Teletran 2 parts can be gutted. This part, that section," Ratchet's bright blue optics dimmed as he focused on design and overlays only he could see.

Prime listened, not interrupting. Teletran Two would have been their full working backup, its need demonstrated by the day's events too acutely. And its operation dedicated to searching for long-range outer space signals, trying to reach those still scattered across the stars. A faint pain echoed through his spark at the memory of his missing spark mate, Elita One. Their attempts to locate the femmes and other remaining Autobots had failed, too many satellites and deep space relays destroyed. Every preset base on Cybertron from their flight time had been destroyed or overrun by enemies and the passing of time. His processing deepened wondering how many mechs or femmes had offlined waiting for them while he and his crew were dormant in stasis buried in the Ark. A spinning metallic shape neared, self-preservation protocols charging his rifle as he ducked.

"No moping you! Wheeljack's doing enough for us all, locked in his lab and blocking even my comm calls," Ratchet ordered, holding a handful of wrenches. Standing on his feet pads, the white and red armored med gestured to throw another wrench.

"I was reviewing personnel lists," Prime calmly stated, the rifle safeties engaging back into standby at his command.

"Mission? Check. Not enough frames to complete the mission without being target practice? Check. Repair everything and every bot around here, always! My job! Be CMO they said. Save frames and see the galaxy. Instead I get twins and moody mechs and internal fragged wiring intertwined," Ratchet snarked, kneeling to reach around the power crystals and continue working.

**Cascade Locks Area and Multnomah Falls, The Gorge, Oregon state**

"Are you sure we can't be seen?" Spike asked. Bracing one hand on the dash, he leaned into the wild ride around the curves and hills as Hound raced. The wind whipping his hair smelled clean and felt warm in the bright sun.

"You doubt my skills as a scout? I am Special Operations certified and the seekers never detect me. Not on Cybertron or Earth. Hold tight, the road is washed out ahead," The red glowing button on Hound's dash seemed to deepen more towards purple with his words. The steering wheel turned, matching wheel movement, an unnecessary effect the Transformers kept as part of their disguises. The gear shift remained centered in neutral, the setting not existing on Cybertron and the power of their engines beyond human numbering for shift levels. The communications button brightened for Spike's benefit and a quick read visually by any medic if darkened.

"I meant seen by Optimus. I left my helmet in my locker and Prowl's rules require shoulder belts while riding. And obeying speed limits." Tennis shoes and a tan colored shirt replaced his normal working clothes, his appearance less conspicuous while enjoying a chance to scout around. The seatbelt across his lap held him down and inside the open jeep cab.

"I can slow down if you are worried. Satellite links and far field bounce pings ensure the road ahead is clear of human traffic and I won't tell Prowl if you don't," Hound's voice held a tone of teasing. The jeep alt mode hugged another corner finer than a race car before sliding across the rocky gravel and back up onto the paved road. “Hold it, I am picking up more electronic signals. Could be Decepticons."

"Or campers. Last false signal was Park Rangers training in the trees. And 'could be Decepticons,' is a phrase you guys use a lot to start sentences."

"Or a new adventure. Fight an enemy for thousands of vorns and you learn to expect their sneakiness everywhere."

**The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State**

"Hound, calling Optimus Prime. Enemy sighted."

Prime nodded, the top left helm bar sliding out to boost range. Without looking, he automatically reached back to grab his ion rifle with his focus remaining on the situation report. "Understood, we will meet you at the falls in eight thousand astro seconds." Logically he knew they had to roll to the dam, meaning their alt modes and weapons secured. But the comforting feel of his ion rifle, fingers curled around the trigger and ready to fire soothed battle impulses active from the Dinobot fight. A click released all the rifle settings for battle, rare for him but it felt right. The Matrix under his chest panels hummed, wanting attention. Focusing, he felt its warning. Events were in motion that could affect more than him or his troops. What was coming could affect Cybertron itself.

" _How?"_ He prodded, use to the implement of the Primes being vague.

Ancient language glyphs flowed across his vision. _"Power," "Team" "Trouble"_ and " _Accept."_

"Not very helpful," Prime noted, feeling the Matrix settle down.

"And?" Ratchet prodded, looking up expectantly at Prime. The medic recognized the increased power flare of the Matrix, with medical protocols set to check Prime as his very spark could ebb while communicating with it.

"Power, team, trouble and accept."

"Remind me why the Matrix is considered the source of wisdom? Sounds like a random collection of words for a human writing contest."

"It will light our darkest hour."

"Your problem, not mine. Finishing Teletran One is. Report any major injuries and haul the pieces back here that you can find," Ratchet knelt, sparks dancing from his micro welder across another bent metal piece. Prime's life signs remained in operating range and Primus willing would stay that way for as long as Ratchet functioned.

Prime carefully prodded at the Matrix again, seeking more. He felt its warmth of acknowledgement only. It recognized him, approved of him carrying it and would reveal more when and ever if it wanted to. Deep venting, he shuttered his optics and recognized multiple energy signatures nearby. Turning his helm to the right, he twitched as his troops were lined up in a row and he had never heard any of them enter the room. Trying to get answers inward, he had lost his focus outward.

Ironhide stood first, having arrived the quickest and always wanting to be closest to Prime to protect him. His boxy red armored form was clean and neatly polished as though they were heading to the Council chambers for a meeting and not a battle. Gears was next and stood at attention patiently, none of his usual despairing comments. The red and blue mini bot was overshadowed by the taller Bluestreak looking ready for inspection, weapon in hand. Trailbreaker, Bumblebee, and Sideswipe were next in line. Sunstreaker was already out in the field as the backup to Hound and waiting for his twin to join them.

"Autobots, transform. Not you Bumblebee. Stay here and guard headquarters," he added, watching them transform and hiding a soft smile at their youngest. Most transformers had to concentrate between forms shifting least parts misalign. Bumblebee stopped mid shift and returned to standing as casually as sighing.

_::Why me?:_ : Bumblebee pinged across the scout frequency.

_::I need you to be the voice of reason with Wheeljack and Ratchet. Both are emotionally compromised and need a bot who can focus beyond the task at hand. I believe your skills are best served here and not as a scout. We know where the Decepticons and Megatron are:_ : Prime answered, wanting to keep Bumblebee safe. His injuries had not been repaired and Ratchet labeling them "minor" were still concerning. Any mention of that however and the little yellow bot would bring up surviving Tyger Pax and Prime's own injuries over countless battles. Now was not the time for an argument. Bumblebee would remain safe at the Ark while he confronted Megatron.

"Roll out," Prime transformed down to his Peterbilt semi alt form, calling his trailer to him. Systems locked, keeping it paired to his frame even to rolling downhill or sliding as one unit, Roller tucked inside mid trailer. The rising battle platform inside charged to readiness and went into standby mode for transport.

_::Is this every bot?:_ : Ironhide sent over the comms. He made a processor note to spend more time with Bumblebee later to make up for being left behind. Bumblebee took his duty seriously, never outgrowing the need to prove himself to those who had raised him.

_:: Others will join in route. This may be a diversion or split of the Decepticon forces. Megatron's plans are never what they seem. We will meet with Hound then disburse into teams::_ Prime answered, rolling out and leading them. The hall lights flickered as the outer access doors closed, the power draw routed elsewhere in the Ark. Any bot remaining behind should have realized it was not Ratchet's repairs on the downed system. Which left Wheeljack's lab. The inventor continued tooling the third processor panel base, the drone machinery behind him making components as fast as the metals cooled.

**Cascade Locks Area and Multnomah Falls, The Gorge, Oregon state**

Megatron, Dark Lord and Leader of the Decepticons stood before the falls as Frenzy processed another batch of energon cubes nearby. Only twelve cubes were stacked by the cassette warrior, and he bet his Second in Command would never notice the pile should have been tripled for the time allowed. 'Hiding inside from getting his precious wings damp and watching the others draw power to make the cubes instead of doing. Now he disturbs my peace.' Red optics cycled back, the scans confirming the saturation of the water below. Megatron kept his back turned, an insult in the old ways to the other's rank and titles while speaking. "Endless energy Starscream."

"Unless we are interrupted by the Autobots."

Megatron vented softly, steps ahead in his plan and confident. "As usual, you underestimate me Starscream. I have already devised a warm reception for our foes. If they should be foolish enough to interfere."

Frowning, the Seeker pondered his wording. 'Warm' meant weaponry and he tracked all computer simulations and designs at their base. Nothing new had popped up on the servers for some time. And the word 'interfere' meant confidence the plan would succeed. What was Megatron up to?

Several breems later, Starscream had his answer. His initial judgment of the plan notched quickly higher. The instruction to herd the Autobots together by flying close in mech modes without full attack seemed odd. Their grouping was their strength. To defeat a bot, you had to separate them. They knew team fighting all too well. And the command to keep their focus upward, flying by in strafe runs but not in jet mode made no sense. The cliff the Autobots fought on balanced between the falls and river and limited the option to use their alt modes except down the narrow one lane road. Focusing up or down made no difference to their weapons aim.

Gears soared up on controlled bursts of air from his feet pads, rising and firing until a blast from Soundwave's rifle. At quarter power, the enemy charge carried enough force to knock the bot down to the ground without critically injuring him. Megatron's orders were resolute. No offlining yet, even if they had a chance.

_::Starscream do not land!::_

The order snapped across his relays, marked highest priority and to be obeyed instantly. The Seeker soared into the air instead of landing behind Trailbreaker to take his spark.

:: _Why? I had him in my sights!:_ : Starscream argued, the perfect alignment lost as Sideswipe covered his teammate, firing up at the seekers.

_::The dirt is laced with nanites. You would be infected. Do not disobey me or suffer the consequences:_ : Megatron explained, his red optics practically glowing before striding into the human building and disappearing. He had remained out of the battle, not even verbally sparring with Prime.

: _:Nanites? For what?:_ : Thundercracker

_::Strategic placement. Follow orders:_ : Soundwave reminded, confirming Ravage tucked inside his chest slide with the others and Rumble nearby. The cassette warrior answered back, grumbling about the layered coating on his frame to block the nanites affecting his ramming speeds _. ::Necessary. Ready pile driver arms::_

_::Are we sure these things are going to work? Shockwave ain't here and we are:_ : Rumble answered, the drill marks from Laserbeak aligned under his rounded enhancements. As bad as he wanted a chance to attack the great Optimus Prime, he knew a slagged off Prime could kick Megatron's aft and had done it. He did not stand a chance even with Soundwave and all the other cassettes helping if the plan failed.

"Now you will witness the power of my fusion cannon." Megatron tugged the final section of the power cable flat before connecting it to the modified cannon end. His return had been missed, the others concentration on the fight. Visions of his own exploding arms and battle damage flashed across Megatron’s optics before being banished ruthlessly. Soundwave and Shockwave were their best scientists and if they said the power outlay would work, it would. He would take their sparks if it did not.

Across the battlefield, Prime's blue optics narrowed upon seeing the cable. “Increasing your cannon power hmm? Been tried before. What are you up to?" The Autobots stood close together, waiting for orders and to scatter if fired upon.

"Ready Rumble?"

"Aw slag, not him again," Ironhide grumbled, passing Jazz and Bluestreak to get a clear line of sight to fire. The Praxus mech focused upward, trying to get Thundercracker sighted in the targeting locks of his shoulder weapons. Jazz's visor flaring blue betrayed his focus. A jammed cartridge ejected out to clear his gun began disappearing under brown dust. Moving brown dust that multiplied. Then shook as Rumble began his piledriving.

_::Big problem boss bot! Nanites under us_ :: Jazz reported, data flowing across his operations visor.

_::I show no signs of system intrusion::_ Prime reported back, watching Megatron closely. He should have fired the instant connected to the power cable and had not, even the tip of his cannon remained pointed down. Cracks in the rock began, spreading to open fissures underneath Rumble's power drivers along a marked line. Squatting down, hydraulics shifted in his legs to jump as Prime readied to clear into the air.

And Megatron fired. Not at them but the cliff edge on which they stood. Firing along another marked line they had seen and ignored believing it to be a human marking. The upped energy disbursed into the rock, shattering it apart and charging the nanites. The micro attackers on lined, the Cybertronian internal systems detecting their presence too late, hidden under their dirt coating.

Externally, the fighters braced as their cliff section tilted sideways, crumbling apart over the rushing river below. Internally they fought the nanites jamming systems and blocking energy relays. Arms would not move, fingers could not pull triggers and battle protocols went into standby as orders waited to update, the last motion command to jump or rise in the air frozen. Self-repairs countered, marking the micro intruders for isolation and removal over time they did not have.

_::Autobots, move!_ ::Prime ordered, his rifle arm falling to his side.

_::I can't fly. Systems down!_ :: Ironhide roared, tilting backwards and over with the rocky surface under his feet pads shattering.

Other Autobots sounded, their calls angry more than fearful as they fell. Ironhide hit first, sinking deep underwater with the combined weight of Sideswipe and Hound landing practically on him. Mirage splashed to his left, panicking as the upper class mech avoided earth's water at all costs and began to sink, clueless what to do in the flowing river.

**::Teach Mirage to swim::** Ironhide's immediate processor note was classified to a subroutine holding file.

**::First Priority : Protect Prime::**

**:: Secondary priority : Self survival::**

**::Tertiary priority: Kick Con aft::**

**::Lower Priorities: Upgrade internal drying systems to compensate for water on a planet two thirds water.**

**Verify all team members know what to do in earth's varied terrains.**

**Compile three insults to counter Ratchet's repairs later.**

**Spend more time with Bumblebee, lessening the danger of this mission in my retelling to him.**

**Priority list to be updated pending survival. Listing program offline in three astro seconds. Two astro seconds. One astro second.**

Gears and Sunstreaker splashed in further away, auto systems keeping them afloat as Bluestreak's scream ended in a gurgle as he fell helm first with the combined weight of his shoulder rockets making the mech top heavy.

Even with optics closed Ironhide recognized the mini wave as Prime hit. ‘Good thing he left the trailer with Spike,’ crossed his processor.

_To be continued…_


End file.
